


We Always Wonder What We're Fighting For

by InsideTheSky



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Fueled by Ramen, Gym Class Heroes, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is..., The Hush Sound, We The Kings (Band)
Genre: Gen, Imaginary Decaydance/FBR & Friends Tour, Multi, Timeline What Timeline, Tour Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:00:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1868886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsideTheSky/pseuds/InsideTheSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We're dropped and well concealed in secret places<br/>We don't fight fair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Always Wonder What We're Fighting For

**Author's Note:**

> I started out writing a mafia type story but then this sort of happened. I still want mafia fics though.  
> Most of this has to do with this picture: https://c2.staticflickr.com/4/3254/2819410958_8dbae5748c_z.jpg  
> Title is probably misleading. Feel free to skip your least favourite bands/pairings.

William stands tall, wind whipping his hair against his face.  Beside him is his right hand man Sisky.  Both carefully watch the faces of their enemies.

Bob Morris stares hard back at them.  "You do realise that if you don't agree, we'll push him off?"  'Him' was Gabriel, who was being held between Alex Greenwald and Greta, who in turn were doing their best to look as fierce as Bob.

"You don't even have a plank." William points out, his voice even.  The corners of Sisky's mouth twitch up as he hides his face, willing himself not to laugh.

"So?" Bob scowls.  "He'll still drown.  Are you sure that's what you want?"

William doesn't answer, doesn't take the unspoken bait.  He studies Gabe, who looks up with wide eyes, squinting a bit in the fading light.

They were standing in Bob's camp, next to the body of water that had claimed so many of his captives.  The rest of the crew stood around, mainly with folded arms and emotionless faces like Spencer.  Some (Brendon and Ryan, naming no names) were holding hands and talking quietly as they leant against the tree.

And whose idea was it to be here anyway?  They should have stayed on their own side and none of this would have happened.  That's how they all played it.  Except Gabe and the Cobras had been idiots and started a semi-successful raid on the Eastern side of Bob and Greta's territory.  They'd gotten what they wanted, but evidently they weren't as good as they thought, and they'd let Gabe go and get caught.  The Academy did have an unofficial alliance with them, mostly due to Gabe and William's on-off  _acquaintance_ , but William would never have made a mistake like that.

After a long, long moment, William turns away.  "Yes," he says.  "I don't need him.  He's....replaceable."

At this, Adam shoots him a strange expression.  Gabe looks crestfallen, resigned to his fate.  Bob glances towards his gang for confirmation, unsure of what to do when faced with this sudden deviation from the plan.  Chris steps up hurriedly and whispers in his ear.

"Travis?" Bob says disbelievingly.  William raises his eyebrow with a smirk.  He waves his hand imperiously and turns his back, suddenly cold.  Bob glares and stomps over to Gabe.  Greta and Alex drop his arms and step aside as Bob's hand comes up, hitting Gabe square in the chest, sending him flying backwards into the water.  William's shoulders stiffen at the sound of the splash, but he allows no other sign of emotion to show as he walks away from the helpless thrashing behind him.  Sisky follows, affording himself the last glance back that William didn't take.

*

They round the corner.  Sisky pulls William around by the wrist to face him.  "Hey.  You did good."

William grimaces in return.  "I'm just hoping a gamble will pay off."

When they get back to the hotel William sits staring into space by the door for an hour as if it holds the answer to all the world's problems.  Sisky and the Butcher send him worried looks in between hands of rummy.   Three games later, a tentative knock brings William to his feet and across the floor in the time it takes the others to react.  He wrenches it open to reveal Jon Walker, a bedraggled Gabe in tow.

"JWalk!" Sisky cheers, glad of the distraction from the Butcher's crazy mad card skills.

William yanks the two men inside, giving his jacket to Gabe.  "Hey," Jon says.  He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a phone, placing it on the table in front of Gabe.  "I took his phone before so it didn't get soaked."  Gabe smiles slightly in response.

William looks up from the tea he's making.  "Thanks, Jon."

Jon shrugs.  "Fishing him out was the least I could do.  It's a shame we can't be on the same side."  Once upon a time, he had, but times change and _they_ made a better offer.  William doesn't mind, not really, because Jon always pulls through for his old friends.  William offers Jon a cup of tea too, but he shuffles his feet and says "I have to go, Spencer's covering for me.  But thanks."

Sisky shows him out, then he and Andy decide to go check in with Mike and Tom.  William hands Gabe the tea and sits next to him.

"You okay?"  His voice is quieter now in the small room.

Gabe wraps his fingers around the mug and breathes in, savouring the warmth.  He turns and slouches into William.  "Yeah.  You had me worried for a bit though."  He nudges his friend.

"Ah, you know me, I always have a plan." William replied lightly, but the way he squeezes Gabe's hand shows how he would really feel if he truly lost him.

*

Ryan props himself up against the tree, Brendon mirroring him.  They stand ignoring everyone and everything else, even though the wind threatens to unwind Ryan's scarf and Brendon's t-shirt is too thin for this weather.

"So that film's out soon, we should go see it." Brendon says, sneaking closer to Ryan in an attempt to steal his heat.  Ryan surreptitiously tries to do the same.

"No way!  We only saw the first one....wow, a year ago.  Hey," he grins.  "Remember this time last year? Like a week before that?"  Brendon smiles back and takes Ryan's hand.  He remembers.

 

[Brendon squawks indignantly and the others turn to see what tree root had moved to personally trip him up.   _This_ time.  But instead of Brendon staring suspiciously at a tree, they are met by Bob - because somehow it always comes back to Bob Fuckin' Morris - holding a gun to Brendon's head.  He's flanked by this year's gang, which includes the terrible duo of Travis  & Travis.  Panic! should have allied with them, but Ryan had been adamant they could make it alone.  Spencer had snorted but gone along with it.  And here they were.

"Give us the restaurant garden or we shoot him."  Bob demands.

Spencer folds his arms and gives him the Look, unimpressed.  "No."

Bob lets go of Brendon and raises the gun higher.  "Yeah?  Well, he won't be doing much singing." He jerks his head towards Brendon.

"You don't need the garden."  Jon says.  Even Spencer rolls his eyes at his bandmate's lack of understanding of gang warfare.

Bob's phone starts playing "Dude Looks Like A Lady", stopping him from educating Jon in the finer points of I-have-a-gun-so-do-as-I-say.

"What?" he says tiredly.  "I'm kind of in the middle of something."  Brendon chooses this moment to try to run, which is a silly idea anyway because where's he going to go?  Ryan's too skinny to hide behind, Jon is looking at his shoes as if they are actually foreign objects and not what normal people wear, and Spencer is too busy glaring at no one in particular.

Chris lifts his gun and is pulling the trigger when Ryan darts in front of him, stopping the bullet.  He hits the ground, his cream-coloured shirt ruined by the large red stain.  Spencer, Brendon and Jon stare silently as Bob pockets his phone and looks up, barely sparing Ryan a glance.

"That was Greta.  She says Pete is trying to take the park.  Let's go." He leads his gang in the opposite direction, filling them in.  As they leave, ("Does Greta know that's your ringtone for her?"  "No, and she's never going to because you're not going to tell her."  "Try to stop me!"  "I mean it, Darren!") Spencer helps Ryan up.  He groans and says "That hurt like a bitch, dammit.  And now my shirt's messed up.  Great."  Spencer tactfully says nothing because, well, the shirt is hideous in his opinion and completely clashes with his shoes, but it's Ryan and he just got shot so....silence.

Brendon interrupts, looking as if it was Christmas.  "You saved my life," he exclaims with a beatific smile.

"We are eternally grateful." Jon quips, before Spencer elbows him.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get so melodramatic.  It's only cos you're wearing my shirt." Ryan clarifies, examining the bright red splatter.  "Where did Bob get paintball guns anyway?"  Any other words are knocked out of him as Brendon collides with him, hugging him tightly.

"I knew you loved me really, Ryan Ross." he says seriously.

Ryan rolls his eyes.  "Yes, I love you forever and ever until the end of time, until Disney stops making movies and Pete stops knowing everyone."  He's kidding, but the sincerity of his words can't be doubted by any of them.

By the time they get back to their camp, they're already holding hands.]

*

"If you were in a real gang, who would it be with?" Greta asks, settling herself on a deck chair.  Next to her, Bob gives her a look that suggests the answer is extremely obvious.

"You, duh.  And Chris and Darren."

Greta brightens.  "Really?"

Bob frowns.  "Don't sound so surprised."

She laughs and sticks her tongue out.  "I was just wondering.  Besides, Darren was in The Cab's gang last year."

"Yeah, but we trashed them anyway." he points out, absentmindedly tapping his finger on the arm of the chair.

"You and William somehow always have the biggest gangs.  I guess I just wanted to know who you'd pick for real."

"Well, obviously you and the guys."  He smiles widely.  "You're my favourite deputy."

Greta groans and smacks him on the arm.  "I knew we shouldn't have let Brendon pick the film last night."  They laugh and watch the cherry blossoms fall on the surface of the pool in companionable silence.  Bob continues drumming his fingers on the chair until Greta puts her hand on top of his to make him stop.  Bob pulls his chair nearer to her and turns his hand over so their fingers are intertwined.  "Like vines," he says, his voice suddenly soft, and Greta puts her head on his shoulder.

* 

Travis sits back and looks at Travis.  He finds this funny, so he tells Travis, who finds it hilarious and almost falls out of his tree.  He looks at a twig caught in his ginger hair, offended.  They didn't go outside to be assaulted by nature.  Travis and Travis got bored with their respective bands, so they started their own gang just for the hell of it.  And also because they kindasortamaybe ran off with all the beer.  So they're sitting in two trees in the hotel grounds - because it's the last night of tour and Pete got them all into a fancy hotel.  It has _three_ bars - and drinking their liberated beer.

"Travie," Travis C says.

"Yeah?" Travis M looks over.  It's dark, it's 9pm or something, and all he can make out of his friend is his moon bleached face and big hair.

"Someone's coming, we should chuck the cans at them, give them a fright."

Travie grins.  "I like the way you think."  He quietly gathers the carrier bags that they put the cans in (hey, they're responsible drunk adults, right?  Right.) and passes one to Travis.

They take a can in each hand and watch silently as their target moves into range.  It's Nate, and in the dim light from the sky and the hotel they see that he looks pissed off.

"Frickin' Gabe," he says, kicking a tree stump.  He looks around, scowling, and the two Travises hold their breath.

"Gabe?  Gabe?" Nate calls half-heartedly.  He sighs angrily and mutters something about Ryland and Alex being lazy assholes.  Travie makes eye contact with Travis, who nods.  Taking aim at the same time, they unleash a volley of empty cans and one full one ("Shit!").  Some of them even hit Nate.  They're kind of drunk, after all.  (But not that much, Mum, I promise)

Nate shrieks and does a little dance like he's trying to swat a bee.  The Travises are dying of silent laughter, arms locked around the branches so they don't fall off.  Travis then gets an idea.  Still laughing quietly, he flicks through his phone, hidden in his hoodie pocket, and starts playing this ominous music at full volume.  Travie doesn't bother asking why he has it.  If they were back at the pool, "Jaws" would be more appropriate, but you have to do the best with what you're given.

Nate scans the trees frantically, eyes wild.  "Who's that?  Alex?  It's not funny, cut it out!" he snaps, his words sharp with fear.

Not to be outdone, Travie bends forward, almost breaking his cover.

"Boo!" he whisper-shouts because, well, it's not as if he'd deny tradition, is it?  Just like how Gabe has always made terrible fashion choices and they all tease Ryan incessantly for his experimental makeup any time they see him.

Nate screams this time, an actual girly scream as he turns and flat out runs back to wherever he came from, yelling about ghosts and for Alex to come save him.  

"Well," Travis observes.  "I guess something scared the Baby Cobra."

Travie starts crying with laughter, his face aching and stomach clenching.  He starts gasping out actual words but Travis is laughing too hard to hear, and by the time he calms down enough to ask him to explain, Travie is no longer in the tree beside him.  He glances down.  Travie is lying on the ground, still laughing between groans of winded pain.

"Oh, man," Travis starts, before bursting into laughter again.  He wipes tears from his eyes then carefully (as carefully as a drunk man can) climbs down to help Travie, because that's what friends do.  Maybe after they've finished laughing, though.

*

Patrick stands just outside of the car park, looking wistfully at his tour bus.  The car park, and by extension the buses, belong to My Chemical Romance.  Frank is perched on top of We The Kings' bus drinking, seemingly quite at home, and Patrick doesn't want to know where Gerard is, or what he's doing.  It's likely to be messy.  Killjoys, indeed.

Tonight is cold and windy and now that it's dark, all Patrick wants is to go inside somewhere and sleep.  He sighs and wonders - not for the first time - why Pete had thought starting his own tour was a good idea.

"They do take all this very seriously," he says to Pete.

Pete puts his phone in his pocket and looks around.

"Yeah," he agrees, "but at least it brings people together."  He slings his arm around Patrick's waist and pulls him close.

Patrick considers for a moment.  "Yeah, it does." He smiles, leaning into Pete.

 

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> There will be Frank/Gerard and maybe some more I just need to post this now because I don't know if I can get online again before the draft deletes itself


End file.
